Blue Rain Dawn
by LadyJanet009
Summary: Hunter Montague thought she had it all, friends, money and devastating looks. Then she arrives home one day... and total chaos arrives on her doorstep. Does she have what it takes to be a great spy? Or a great dead one?.
1. Chapter 1

**Blue Rain Dawn**

**By LadyJanet009**

_Chapter One: Death and Despair_

Hunter Montague stepped off the Humdinger 9 bus, turning

around to wave off her friends on the cold Bristol sidewalk, London.

"Bye, Sharni!! Later, Walker!!", Hunter called cheerfully, her accent

tinged predominantly with an Irish burr. Hunter energetically waved

the bus on its way, laughing happily at the sight of her two friends'

face-pulling. The Humdinger snail-trailed away as Walker and Sha-

rni reciprocated Hunter's farewell with sadness written on their faces.

Turning away reluctantly, Hunter confidently strode away for home.

The fifteen year old hurriedly traversed the desolate Bristol streets,

hurrying against icy wind and sleeting rain as she walked down the

street. Hunter impatiently pushed her charcoal sweatshirt hood over

her eternally messy, usually-straight gold-auburn hair, her deep aqu-

amarine eyes flashing angrily in annoyance. Hunter turned her tom-

boyish swagger into a casual, loping run her ebony combat-pants

swishing in their slightly-damp state. Her light-gold combat boots

kicked up swathes of water as Hunter turned onto McDawn Street.

A kick of forboding gnawed at Hunter's stomach, but Hunter ignored

it, running along the lengthy McDawn and and up her new home's

driveway. Forsaking both mailbox and doormat, Hunter laid her right

index finger against the buzzer and held it down, as per her usual

entrance. _Bbbbrrrppp!!!!!!!, _**the bell buzzed. **No reply- no thudding foot-

steps sounding upon the inner hearth. Hunter frowned slightly in

puzzlement, then casually rested her left hand upon the emerald-

green door. To Hunter's very great surprise, the door swung open.

Eerie thrills of intense forboding sparked electricly along every inch

of Hunter's five-foot-eight frame, as Hunter hesitated upon the porch.

Taking a deep breath, Hunter fought back her fear and urge to flee,

then steeped cautiously into her home of four years. The very first

thing that registered to Hunter were the spots of breadcrumb-trail

bloodspots, upon the hallway floor, leading up to a midnight-blue

door off the entrance hall. The second thing was the sudden shock-

jolt of a cellphone ringing, slicing a gaping hole through the veil-thin

silence of Montague Manor and resounding eerily in Hunter's soul.

Wincing uneasily, Hunter staggered jerkily down the entrance hall-

way, making sure to avoid the horrible bloodspots and heading to-

wards the ring's vicinity. "Hello?", Hunter answered, her tone ragged

and uneven as she held the silver flip-phone in her shaking, slender,

pale left hand. The caller-ID was unknown, completely anonymous

on SpeedDial One. Silence. Then.. "Hi there, this is Blaze Phoenix.

Who is speaking?? Mister Montague?", answered a pleasant female

voice, if a little worn and wary. Hunter stared at the cell-phone's blue

dial-plate, unable to come to terms with exactly what she was hearing.

As Hunter surveyed the office she was standing in, her wary gaze fell

upon her father's desk-chair- and the slumped, bloodied body within

it. "No, this is his daughter. There is a bad situation here- my dad's

wounded. Call an ambulance", Hunter answered, quite calmly consi-

dering the grisly sight before her. A brief silence ensued. Then came

the reply that Hunter deeply feared above all things. "Oh, hi. You mu-

st be Hunter. Stay where you are- I'm now sending a squad over to

your location. Don't be afraid, we're Corporation Inverlaik Agency".

Hunter froze, her gaze unwillingly straying to the desk-chair across

the room, where the bloodied figure of Xanderov Montague slumped.

In what seemed like hours later, (but was in fact seven minutes later)

the door slammed back on its hinges and heavy bootsteps thudded

distinctly upon the inner hall floor, signally the new arrivals to Mon-

tague Manor. Hunter looked up sharply, stark confusion and ming-

led rage in her aquamarine-green eyes as she sized up the black-

clad new arrivals. "Who are- No!! N-No!", Hunter stammered def-

iantly, clinging to her father's prone form, her expression blank.

A silk-layered voice spoke up from nearby, starling Hunter by its

closeness. "It's okay, Joliet. We'll take care of you and your dad.

Everything's gonna be just fine", soothed the new voice, that of

a tall, confident teenage beauty, with flowing, platinum-blonde

straight hair and vivacious electric-blue eyes. Hunter shook her

head violently, scared but ever-defiant. "My name", Hunter sniped

coldly, "is Hunter". The striking blonde shook her head slowly,

smiling slightly. "For safety reasons, _Hunter, _it is now Joliet

Scorpion. But then, you must also know that my name is not

Blaze Phoenix by choice", replied the blonde teen glacially.

An almost-imperceptible hand-signal later, Hunter fell to the

floorboards, tranquilised out of action. Hunter awoke three

days later, extremely groggy and majorly disorientated.

Nausea and rememberance blazed colourfully before

Hunter's eyes, making her stagger upright to her feet, her

face a pale blaze in the half-darkness. "Wait! Dad!!", she

gasped weakly, lurching to her feet and half-limping, half-

staggering over to the iron-barred, steel door window.

At the bottom fringe of the steel, cell door, a food-flap op-

ened, proceeded swiftly by a small platter of porridge in

a bowl a small array of fruit, pushed mercifully forwards

by a slender hand. "Wait! What about my Dad!?", Hunter

called loudly, but the hand withdrew hurriedly and Hunter

recieved no reply. With a weary, careless shrug, Hunter

dragged the plate towards her and began glumly eating

the lacklustre prisoner-food. With a ragged sigh, Hunter

gave way to despair, wondering where she was and why.

Via closed-circuit, ingeniously-hidden camera, CIA Agent

Camryn Albright surveyed Hunter Montague from afar.

"She seems to be coping well, so far. I'll visit her person-

ally tommorow, under guise as her new cellmate, Allison

Fairwinter. All is well", Cam said, to her immediate super-

iour, Agent Garcia of Cental Intelligence Agency. Cam's

electric-blue eyes glittered calculatingly for a mere instant,

then melted into a warm gleam of concern for the Irish pri-

soner. "Connect me to MI6", Cam commanded venomously.

An hour later, Hunter snapped into attack-stance; left foot

forward, right foot back and on a slant-par with the other,

(facing slightly sideways) facing forwards in a lunge (to pr-

esent a smaller target) and with an uplifted chin and attack-

clenched fists battle-ready. The steel door opened, barely

wide enough to permit three lean teenagers. Soon enough,

one teenage boy and two teenage girls were unceremon-

iously shoved through the opening, coming to a harsh halt

face-down upon the cell's dingy, dusty stone floor now.

The steel door clanged shut. Holding her taut stance, Hunter

backed away slightly, keeping the northern stone wall to her

back as she assessed the new and volatile situation for any

new threat. As far as Hunter could now tell, the three new

teens were fairly tall, lean and angular, with wiry, lean frames

that screamed of elite fitness. They seemed okay so far, but

Hunter took no chances, keeping her Judgement-radar up as

the three floored teens arose.

Agent Cam Albright got to her feet first, utilising a swift, swish

side-Army roll. Spooting Hunter immediately, she raised one

palm disarmingly, while she sneakily withdrew an ordinary, pearl-

blue ballpoint pen from the right back pocket of her charcoal jeans.

Keeping her makeshift weapon trained upon Hunter menacingly,

Cam sought to calm the attack-ready Irish teen. "Again, it's okay,

Joilet. Put all notion of attack away. I'm Allison Fairwinter- an elite

agent of the Central Intelligence Agency. I'm here to help bust

you outta here", Cam soothed, seizing her only chance hurriedly.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two: Deciept and Betrayal_

Hunter surveyed Agent Cam Albright (AKA Allison Fairwinter) as if the girl had grown an extra, scaly head. Hunter snorted derisively. "Yeh, right. Tell the truth-- You're Blaze Phoenix. But even then I highly doubt that's your real name. You _lied_ to me! You took away my _father_, damn you!! Take me to him, _Phoenix, _if you value your life", Hunter snarled viciously, her face as coldy neutral as a hired assassin about to pick off her target. By this time, the other two teens were on their feet, hands raised disarmingly as they both gazed at Hunter, rapt admiration upon their tanned faces now. The boy spoke first. "Whoa, look out there Phoenix. Better tell 'Joliet' who ya truly are", said the blonde-brown haired boy at Cam's shoulder, smirking, his charcoal-grey eyes twinkling. The blonde boy frowned slightly in annoyance as the second girl, a bronze-haired, emerald-eyed girl shoved his shoulder, serving him a warning look of dissuation.

The cell atmosphere was rocketing towards Atlantic-frigid. Time was sweeping past, seemingly slower than usual. Hunter stepped forward boldly, aquamarine eyes flaring menacingly as she did so. "All of you, stay still and _shut UP!!!! _I want answers- seems you're the only ones who are gonna give them to me!! Phoenix, drop the pen and kick it to me", Hunter demanded acidly, her tone broadly glacial and predominantly Irish-toned. Hesitating, Cam lowered her weapon-pen slightly, shaking her blonde head slowly and with great deliberation and exaggeration. "_No. _I'll give you the _answers _you _seek_, but I'll _not_ allow you to be a _liability_. My name- my _identity- _is Agent Camryn Albright, of CIA Central Intelligence Agency", she answered. Camryn paused, then forged ahead into her lengthy explanation. "Flanking me are Agent Georgina Thomas of MI6 Intelligence and Agent Alex Rider, also of MI6. Here in The Clink, we go by code-names- that's why you must _only _answer to _Joliet Scorpion, _me to _Allison Fairwinter, _George to _Morgain Fuller _and Alex to _Mason Greywater", Cam explained, _lapsing into silence.

Hunter hesitated, relaxing slightly, her jaw mouthing furiously as she struggled to take in this strange new sci-fi info that she'd just recieved. This was the split-second Cam needed to strike, flicking her wrist discreetly and depressing the pen-trigger in onbe fluid motion. The pen-nib detached and flew at Hunter, digging itself deep into the side of Hunter's neck, just under her left earlobe. Cam caught Hunter as she fell forwards, sinking into unconsciousness, then shoved Hunter into a lone, nearby desk-chair. Alex was livid with indignant fury. "Cam, what was _that _for? I could've talked her around!! You had no call-mmph!", snarled Alex, conveniently cut offby Cam throwing herself upon him, trapping his lips in hers quickly. George Thomas rolled her emerald-green eyes, looking crestfallen as Cam wraped her arms around Alex's (George's ex-boyf's) neck, pressing herself against Alex, trapping Alex seductively against the western alcove of the cell. George hurried over to the unconscious, prone form of Hunter Montague, if only to be spared the sight of (and pain of) her ex-boyfriend Alex in rogue agent Cam's (once her friend, now archenemy) arms, the two blissfully embracing.

George was five foot seven, with straight, light-bronze hair (that had a slight wave to it) and seductive emerald-green eyes. She wore faded, ruby-red combat pants, emerald Nike Airs and an ebony halter-top. "_Why_ can't I be _over him_?", George muttered. Seven minutes later, Cam and Alex exited the alcove, holding hands and sneaking tender glances at each other. George thought they looked quite pleased with themselves and her heart plummeted. Cam was five foot eight, (like Hunter) siren-like with her stunning beauty, platinum-blonde hair and beguiling, electric-blue eyes. She wore a charcoal catsuit that clung terrificly to her slender body, (that drew more than a few lingering, admiring gazes fromAlex) metallic-blue Converses and a platinum-silver, emerald-faced Rolex. Alex surveyed George calmly, feeling slightly guilty for canoodling in the sight of his gorgeous ex-girlfriend.

Alex was five foot nine, with tousled, eternally-spiky, shaggy brown-blonde hair, (made fair by being naturally sun-streaked) charcoal-grey eyes and a dazzling smile. He wore an all-ebony combat outfit, green Army shirt and polished silver Nikes. Sighting her hated spy-colleague, George leapt to her feet, surveying Cam and Alex detachedly. "Hunter's an innocent, _Camryn._ You had no call to elliminate her, _Albright._ It's your problem. It's on _your_ head, if she doesn't wake up", George snapped nonchalantly. Calmly grabbing Hunter under her shoulderblades, George dragged the unconscious girl to the cell's western corner, as much to get away from Cam and Alex as to be completely away from their influence. Calmy ignoring George, Cam placed her slender, training-tough hands upon Alex's washboard chest and guided him roughly backwards, far against the opposite, western wall. From then on, Cam attacked Alex's mouth with a fierce, lingering fury, running her hands all over the concaves of Alex's chest, as she pressed herself, imprintingly, against his tall, angular frame.

All thoughts of George flew out of Cam's mind, as Alex pulled her more intimately to him, kissing Cam ferociously as he crushed her into his arms. George looked up suspiciously, to discover the grim sight of Cam and Alex upon the cell floor, locked into each other's embrace as they hurriedly began to unbutton the other's upper clothes in frenzied eagerness. Alex's army-green shirt fell open and flapped in the slight cell wind, revealling dreamy, muscular tanned chest, as Cam turned her attention (and fingers) to Alex's charcoal-grey belt buckle. The halter-top pf Cam's catsuit was unzipped in no time and Cam shrugged it to the floor, her emerald bra revealled as Alex's belt fell open, to reveal Garfield boxer-shorts. George was on her feet running before she even realised it, fierce betrayal and adrenaline fuelling her blood. Her desire to hurt Cam boiled over to a white-hot inner fury as George reached the two and wrenched the two would-be lovers apart.

"You witch!! You had to _ruin it all,_ didn't you, Albright!?. Well, have a free slice of Revenge Pie!!", George snarled sharply, kicking Cam and then Alex repeatedly, over and over. Cam grabbed George's ankle and pulled on it, wrenching the avenging George to the floor beside her, painfully. Cam drew back a clenched fist and struck, smashing the bony cartilage of George's perfect nose and dodging the ensuing torrent of blood which streamed from the wounded area. George retaliated by striking Cam's jugular with a backhand-fist strike, simultaneously pressing down two fingers cruelly upon the pressure-point upon Cam's left temple. Cam sunk into cold unconsciousness, leaving George victorious now. Turning triumphantly on Alex, George smashed her knee into her ex-boyf's groin, grinning rabidly as Alex Rider doubled over in excrutiating pain. "George, no. Don't do this", Alex moaned, but George slammed her elbow into Alex's solar plexus, knocking MI6's top spy and secret weapon unconscious.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three: Revenge and Kinship_

Hunter woke, an hour after The Fight, to find George Thomas standing over her, clamping the front of her ebony halter-top to her bleeding nose and looking quite fierce with unconcealed triumph. Hunter tried to sit up, but her head swam as pain assailed her and she fell back to the floor, with a loud groan of pain. Hunter was immensely touched when George (wounded herself)selflessly helped Hunter to her feet, then coldly explained what had happened. Meanwhile, a slowly-awakening Cam and Alex were moaning in pain, as they slowly sat up from their blackout. Cam shook her throbbing head to clear it of light-headedness, fighting the crushing nausea that vehemently gripped her body. She scanned the room slowly, her clouded gaze of electric-blue alighting upon George immediately. Rememberance flooded over Cam like a gale-force storm.

"Liked the show, _Georgey? _More where _that _came from", Cam sneered maliciously, slurring as she spoke. Nearby Cam, Alex laughed hollowly, but his eyes of charcoal told a different story altogether. George smirked in reply. "How's your _head, Albright?", _George replied nastily. Alex caught hold of Cam's arm violently, as Cam fought her way upright, her vehement momentum dragging Alex upright also. Cam struggled to get free of Alex's dogged grip, fierce hatred twisting her pretty face into vast unpleasantness, as she fought to lunge at the smilng George. "C'mon then, _Albright! _Go on, attack me!! We'll see who faceplant right into the dust again", George challenged provocatively, glaring levelly at Cam with the exact same expression of hatred and disgust now. "Stop!!", Hunter yelled vindictively. "You're Special Agents-- you're meant to be working as a team, not at other ends of the enemy spectrum!", her opinion slicing through the hostile atmosphere like a knife through mist, starling Alex, Cam and George in their tracks with her blunt honesty and directness.

Cam stood stock-still, her expression masked while she studied the steel door, arms folded as she decided on what to do next. "Know what, Smallfry? You're stupendously right. I'm leaving- but _Georgey, _this ain't over. Not by a long shot", Cam answered glacially. Spinning coldly upon her heel, Cam sauntered over to the steel cell door, Cardkey in hand now. George glared at Cam's retreating back, her eyes a mask of great dislike. "Count on it, Witch!! Name the _time and place_-- I'll be there. The bigger-headed they are, the harder they _fall!!_", she called boldly, gleefully watching Cam tense, then angrily swipe her Cardkey in the Cardkey slot and storm angrily from the cell, slamming the heavy steel door behind her with a sharp _clang._ Alex followed in his girlfriend Cam's wake, turning tortured grey eyes to George before he swiped his Cardkey. There was so much controlled emotion in his eyes. Alex gazed into George's unforgiving emerald eyes and spoke words George couldn't ignore, no matter how much she sorely wanted to.

"I miss you, George. I miss _us. _The good old times when you and me were _inseperable_- _deleriously happy _and _in love_. More than _anything, _I wish we could go back to _those times_. Back to _you and me_", he said softly, just loud enough for George to hear. Alex turned away hurriedly, emotion clogging his throat, as he swiped his Cardkey. He paused suddenly. "I miss _towel-snuggling _with you", he said finally. Then he left.

kk


End file.
